That's One Way To Spend An Afternoon
by Gurrbill
Summary: A bored Cas and a horny Dean will always result in something sexual. Honestly, Cas is gonna have to put a leash on him at some point. Established Destiel. Oneshot. Rated M for a reason, people.


Dean took his socks off after he walked in the door, padding through the halls. He eventually found the angel in the kitchen... doing the washing up.

_Huh. There's something you don't see everyday. _

Castiel was pressed against the counter, hands wrist-deep in soapy water. Faintly, Dean could hear him humming under his breath, a vague melody that resembled Led Zeppelin's 'Black Dog', the low tones making the air vibrate around him.

The scene was almost too neat, too warm. The afternoon glow of the summer sun certainly wasn't helping things.

It was pleasant... homey, even.

Dean could _definitely _get used to this.

Just weeks ago, he never would've dreamt of seeing Cas like this; acting... normal. Human. Something as simple as thinking of Cas doing the washing up was bizarre as anything, and yet here they were.

And the fact that this was Dean's life from this point on... it felt right. And... kind of scary.

Sure, from that one pivotal moment when Cas had stepped into Dean's life through that barn door, things were going to be different - Dean had established that already - but this kind of different was a whole new level. Bravery in the face of things that could kill you was one thing; bravery in the face of someone who could potentially ruin your life with just a few words was another entirely.

Dean had never been good at maintaining a healthy 'romantic' relationship. Heck, _any _relationship_._ There were a good few reasons too - and they weren't all about hunting either.

As Sam had put it once, Dean was... 'emotionally stunted'. He wasn't any good at professing any type of feeling, aside from maybe anger in the physical form. And that never made a partnership last - a partnership of any kind. Let alone (dare he say it) a loving one.

So yeah, he was scared. Scared he might royally fuck something up. Scared he might frighten Cas away. Scared he might lose the angel, or worse, the angel might lose him. God knew, he couldn't bear the thought of putting Cas through that type of hurt. It was entirely possible for him to die on a hunt and never come back, never get a chance to say goodbye...

"Dean, why are you staring?"

Said hunter blinked himself back from oblivion, his unfocused eyes zeroing in on Castiel's amused gaze automatically.

"What?" He asked, pulling his signature grin out of nowhere, sauntering over as the angel went back to scrubbing the plates, "I'm not allowed to look, is that what this is?"

Cas shrugged his shoulders, the all-too human gesture hitting Dean much harder than he'd thought it would. It was strange how the tiniest thing could strike him so sharply.

"Of course you can look," Cas countered nonchalantly, "I'd just prefer it if you were... a little closer, if you wish to stare like that."

Dean's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline at that particular comment.

Was Castiel, definition of innocence and cluelessness, actually _flirting _with him?

...

Never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?

Dean grinned to himself, taking a few steps closer, his chest just barely touching the angel's back. He could see the way Cas' shoulders froze as his hands stilled in the sink - his breathing seemed a lot louder all of a sudden, filling Dean's ears like the notes to a long forgotten song.

Oh, this _definitely _had potential.

As an actor on stage would, he took his cue, dipping his head down, lips inches away from Cas' ear, ensuring that their skin wasn't _quite _touching, but the contact could still be felt. Dean's hands strayed to the angel's hips, skimming over them before securely latching onto the countertop either side, caging the other with his arms.

"...How's this?" He smirked against Cas' ear, letting his lips graze the angel's jaw - the friction of stubble was surprisingly welcome. The sensation seemed to bring the solidity of the angel into much sharper focus, kicking Dean's mind into overdrive.

Castiel was here, right now; very real against him and seemingly unmovable. 'Stable' was a word that came to mind. A word that Dean hadn't associated with anyone for a long time. Not Sam, not Dad - hell, not even _Bobby _for a while.

But Castiel was different. The feel of him beneath Dean's fingers reassured him in more ways than he'd ever imagined possible, and it very nearly overwhelmed him when he realised how thankful he was for the angel. So thankful.

"Better." Castiel breathed lowly, leaning back into Dean's warmth. The two fitted perfectly, like pieces of a long lost jigsaw puzzle. A seriously messed up jigsaw puzzle, but a jigsaw puzzle nonetheless.

"Remind me again," Dean began eventually, brow furrowed as he watched the circular movements of Cas' hand as they sponged the last of the plates amongst clouds of bubbles, "Why are you... cleaning exactly?"

There was a pause, before, "I'm of no use anywhere else in this house. I may as well be doing something of importance."

Dean knew that there was more behind that statement - perhaps a lot more - but he decided not to pry. Cas knew he could talk to him anytime he wanted - and if he didn't by now, he'd soon learn.

"Like scrubbing dishes?" Dean responded incredulously, chin resting against the angel's shoulder, eyes closing as he drew in the scent of him. Freshly laundered clothes, and that faint pine-needle scent. It was just Cas, and Dean couldn't get enough of it if he tried. It was his drug. Cas was his drug.

"Like scrubbing the dishes." The angel finished promptly.

The quiet trill of water was left to fill the room, and the two were quite happy to stand and bathe in each other's presence. It was nice, to be able to have prolonged contact like this. For once it wasn't a rushed hug, or a quick slap on the shoulder - it was just... Them. Living and breathing. Together.

Dean stood rigidly in his place, ignoring the slight ache in his back as he kept his position - he refused to move, wanting to stay near the angel for as long as he could. Possibly elsewhere - a mattress, maybe...

His thoughts went directly downstairs.

Oh _hell _yes.

"...You know," he spoke up, his hands leaving the counter to grip the angel's hips again, albeit softly. Like handling fine china, "I think you could be doing something _else _of importance, if you'd like."

Cas laughed lightly, the sound reverberating through Dean's very bones. It was strange how his senses seemed to be thrust into overdrive around anything that concerned the angel. Kind of obsessive, maybe?

"Really?" Cas humoured him, "Like what, exactly?"

Cas had stopped scrubbing the plates now, his ears perked, ready and waiting for Dean's answer. The anticipation was rolling off the guy in waves, Dean could feel it. He couldn't help the swell of egotistical pride that filled his gut.

The fact he could make Cas practically do his bidding with just his words was flattery of the highest form.

"I think you can work it out." He pressed himself firmer against the angel, pinning him to the counter. The slight hitch in Cas' breath as he was bent over by Dean's body went straight south, and for the life of him, he couldn't stop the growl that clawed it's way out from his throat if he'd tried. Cas didn't even know it, but he was already driving him nuts.

"I... I suppose I could," Cas agreed , head tilting backwards, his black bangs brushing against the hunter's cheek. Dean let his head drop lower, trailing a soft line of kisses down that beautiful expanse of neck. A low, guttural sound rumbled deep in the angel's chest, and - just for the hell of it - Dean scraped his teeth against the sensitive skin where neck met shoulder.

Instantly, Cas' breath hitched, the planes of his body tensing against Dean's.

"Dean... We can't..."

Not a good enough excuse.

"Really Cas?" He hummed against the angel's skin, a light smile dancing across his lips, green eyes lighting up, " 'Cause _I _think we can. Now... work it out."

A second of silence passed, until Cas decided to play along with the game.

"...I think I know." He said finally. Dean grinned.

"Really?" He teased, "Would you mind sharing with the class?"

"I think..." Cas murmured, his voice raspy, "You'd like me - you'd like _us _to... to..."

The repetition was making Dean grin like an idiot. He planted another kiss on Cas' pulse point, and the angel lost all notion of what he'd been about to say in two seconds flat.

"To what, Cas?" He prompted, "...Cat got your tongue?"

Then of course, Cas just had to throw a curve ball.

He ground back into Dean's crotch, _hard_, and Dean nearly leapt with the force it hit him. It seemed his cock was only just picking up on the situation, but he was already headlong into the fire.

"_Jesus Christ_," he hissed into Cas' neck, still refusing to relent the pressure he was putting on the angel's body. Damned if _he _was going to surrender first.

"You... should watch your tongue, Dean..." Cas retorted, the teasing son of a bitch. The angel's hands had left the water now, and were gripping the edges of the sink so tightly that his knuckles were going white, "It may land you in trouble."

The gravelly tone of Cas' voice was sending tendrils of flame shooting through Dean's spine - those vocals had surely been _made _for this sort of thing.

"Is that a challenge?" He whispered gruffly against Cas' ear, hands skimming the edges of the other's shirt, pads of his fingers teasing the slither of bare skin that he could reach. The angel shivered, head dipping between his shoulders as Dean's talented hands travelled around to his navel, tracing slight patterns over the heated skin there. His fingers stayed stationary for a moment or two, allowing goosebumps to erupt down Cas' neck, before his fingers drifted downwards and toyed with the catch on the angel's trousers. He buried his face in the other's shoulder, jerking his hips just hard enough to earn a noise that sounded too much like a yearning whine to be anything else.

"Cas?" Dean persisted, lips quirking as he listened intently to the sound of Castiel's shallow breaths, relishing the way that the angel started at the slightest movement. He was so goddamn _responsive _- and Dean was determined to use that to his every advantage.

"Yes... I-I think it is." Cas answered with shaky determination, turning his head just enough to let Dean see the blue of his eyes; those lust-blown pupils shining above flushed cheeks.

And damn, if it wasn't one of the most stunning sights he'd ever seen.

There was a slight smirk stretching the angel's lips as he turned, and the hunter didn't stop himself from leaning forwards and capturing them in a kiss. There was the slide of hands over hands, the slight nip of teeth on lips and hot breath over skin, sending sparks zig-zagging through their nerves, the two forms melting into each other as if they had been made for that very purpose.

Before Dean knew it, Cas had done a complete one-eighty, carding one wet hand through his hair whilst the other cupped his face. Slowly, they moved together and Dean captured every second of it like an old Polaroid. Every glide of hot tongues, every whispered name and broken moan. He soaked it all up, took his time in placing every moment in his memory.

He never wanted to forget.

"Dean... I..." Cas gasped into the hunter's mouth, his hands dithering a little, unsure what to do with themselves. Somehow, the pair had managed to move away from the sink, and Dean took the opportunity to push Cas backwards, the angel sliding onto the countertop with an almost effortless movement of his hips.

Graceful son of a bitch.

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean questioned roughly, a hand playing down the angel's thigh, which was hooked snug around his hip. Cas' arms had wrapped themselves around Dean's shoulders, causing their foreheads to press together. Another kiss, another nip of teeth on lips.

"I think -_ ah!_" Cas broke off as Dean jutted his hips, damn-near making the angel bounce on the counter, "I think we should probably... get out of the kitchen."

Dean practically growled his agreement.

He never would remember how exactly they'd made it upstairs - Cas was a lithe bastard at the best of times, let alone when he was in a rush to get something he wanted.

And boy, did he _want_.

By the time they'd reached the dimly-lit bedroom, Dean's t-shirt had mysteriously disappeared somewhere along the way, and Cas' fingers were hot as he fumbled with the zipper on the hunter's jeans. The movements of his hands were clumsy, inexperienced, but Dean could care less. Every tiny bit of contact sent his mind spinning. Just as he could drive Cas crazy, the angel could fight back too. Teeth bared, metaphorical fists raised.

He had the angel against the doorway to the bedroom, shoving a leg between Cas' own. A sound escaped the other's throat then, so animalistic in its nature that Dean half expected the angel to take control, to fight for dominance.

"_Cas..." _Dean groaned, trailing off as the angel snaked his arms around his neck, pulling Dean forwards to clash their lips together, the want for closeness almost needy. His thumbs hooked through Cas' belt loops, pulling the angel's hips sharply forward. The kiss broke with a stuttered cry, Cas' eyelids snapping wide open.

"_Dean...!_" The angel's voice was wrecked, his kissed-red lips parting as something that could only be described as bliss crossed his features. The choked cry of Dean's name sent him into a frenzy - that _fucking voice_. He suddenly found himself wishing he'd worn anything but jeans - they were far too tight, and his angel was far too clothed.

"Shirt. Off," he demanded, gracing Cas' skin with a feather-light press of lips underneath his jawline, sucking on delicate skin there. His hazed mind was unable to form anything other than single syllable words, nothing but carnal urges and an undying need to be with the angel in front of him guiding his actions, "_Now_."

Cas, friggin' flexible wonder that he was, shucked off his shirt in one quick movement, only having to undo the top three buttons before hastily pulling the entire thing over his head - it was lost to the floor in seconds.

Dean's eyes were greeted with lean muscles, each one flexing underneath his touch - he didn't quite know where to start. It was like being a kid in a candy store.

Briefly, he scraped his nails down Cas' side, suppressing a laugh when he saw that the angel was ticklish near his ribcage - the smaller details were always the most important.

He leant down, his body flush against Cas' as he kissed him again, pulling away only to begin his journey down the angel's neck. The other's breaths were ragged and rushed as Dean rewarded him with his lips, and the hunter felt every single huff against his chest. It was breathtaking. Like riding a rollercoaster. A hot, sweaty, _noisy _rollercoaster.

"How d'you want me, Dean?" The angel's voice cut through the air like a switch-blade, making Dean's heart race in his chest. He dropped his head to graze Cas' collar bone with his teeth, the other's arms resting across Dean's shoulders whilst one hand fisted in his hair, "I'll do anything."

Surprise lit up Dean's face. That was... unexpected; first the flirting and now this?

Boy he was getting lucky today. In every sense of the word.

"You're learning quick, Cas," he rumbled against the other's shoulder, tracing his skin with frantic kisses between almost every word, "Am I a bad influence?"

Seemingly in answer, Cas rolled his hips upwards, and Dean nearly staggered from the shock of pleasure that shot through the pit of his stomach because fucking _hell...!_

Cas didn't stop there, though - far from it, actually. One of his arms left Dean's neck, trailing his fingernails deftly down Dean's bare chest, tugging the lip of the his jeans and _oh god._

"Cas..." Dean gritted out, biting down on the delicate skin where neck met shoulder, savouring the moan that escaped from the other's throat. Cas had a _biting kink_, for fuck's sake.

"What's the matter?" Cas exhaled breathlessly, pressing his cheek against the side of the hunter's head, laying a warm kiss on Dean's neck, " 'Cat got your tongue?' "

Hearing his own words repeated back to him was what sent Dean flying over the edge in the end. With a growl of the angel's name, he hooked his fingers through the other's belt loops and yanked him away from the doorframe. Cas yelped, hand retracting from Dean's navel to grip his shoulder, holding on tightly as the hunter pretty much dragged him over to the bed.

Cas pants were lost in the journey to the mattress, and Dean highly suspected that he'd used some of his angel mojo to get them off, because Dean was sure as hell that the angel hadn't actually gone _commando_.

Fucking angels, man. Literally

The back of Dean's knees hit the mattress a moment later, and he pulled Cas down with him, sliding the angel onto his lap with ease. He resisted the urge to fall flat on his back - Cas would have a field day with him if he did that.

The slight creak of bed springs could be heard as the angel settled himself more comfortably, his weight solid and very very real - he was full on straddling Dean now, running both his hands through his hair and down to the dimples on his lower back. Dean's arms were wrapped around Cas' middle, pulling the angel closer. He craned his head upwards, and Cas came down to rest his forehead against Dean's, noses touching, breath mingling - breathing in the scent of one another.

Though their chests were heaving, and Dean's mind was running at a hundred miles an hour, calm descended in those few seconds. The world seemed to melt away as their eyes met, colliding with each other, as big and momentous as planets. The universe didn't exist - it was just Cas. The taste of him against Dean's lips, sweet and painfully familiar, the scent of his skin and the sound of his breathing, the staccato of their hearts pumping against their ribs.

Dean loved it. Adored it. Adored this... Gift he was so lucky to receive.

And then everything sped up again.

Lips fought for dominance, hands fought for control - it was like war between their two bodies, each at the mercy of the other; a dance of fire and ice. It was heated and messy and amazing all at once.

Abruptly, Dean felt the arms holding onto his neck move, Cas' hands laying flat against his chest before pushing him backwards with a force that definitely wasn't human. His back hit the sheets with a soft thump, and literally seconds after, he felt Cas hands scrabbling urgently at his zipper.

Before Dean knew it, his jeans and boxers had gone the same way his shirt had, and a hot hand was gripping him firmly, giving a small squeeze. Like lightning, white hot coils seemed to shoot through his stomach, and (though he'd never admit it) his back was suddenly arching clean off the mattress, hands fisting in the sheets, the cry of the angel's name loud on his lips.

A filthy sound could be heard from Cas above him, and Dean didn't think that sort of noise should be capable of a freakin' _angel of the Lord _- but then again, he never would have even considered the thought that he and said angel would be going at it like two rabbits at some point in the near future.

But the Winchesters always managed to make miracles happen though, didn't they?

Dean had managed to prop himself up on an elbow, his other hand reaching up to cup the angel's face and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. Gradually, he moved back to rest against the headboard, pulling the other with him. Cas' lips were on him again, heated and frantic, before pulling away little by little. Confused, Dean tried to reclaim control, pressing his lips more firmly against Cas', but the angel continued to pull away; deep kisses soon turned into light, almost chaste touches of lips. Too innocent, for Dean's liking - it was almost as if the angel was determined to wind him up as much as he could.

Cas was usually the one to _want _closeness, fight for it even - not run away from it. He was distancing himself, taking his warmth away with him, and Dean sure as hell didn't like it. It was a little scary, actually - how he could be so dependant on the mere _presence _of another.

He was brought sharply back to reality a second later, however, nearly drawing blood as he bit down hard on his bottom lip, mind going haywire. Cas' palm had just brushed the tip of his cock, and _fuck_, if that didn't make Dean nearly fall off the bed he didn't know what would.

So _that _was his game, the sneaky angelic son of a bitch.

He was gonna leave him high and dry, then assault him with every goddamn weapon in his arsenal all at once. Just like Dean had done to him in the kitchen; all teasing touches, but no real... well, no real anything.

"Cas... I - You can't-" Dean hissed through clenched teeth as Castiel kept up the barely-there touches, the playful fingers, sometimes giving that twisting motion of his wrist that had Dean's hands gripping the angel's thighs tightly, groaning out Cas' name. Once they'd done this - _once _- and somehow Cas was already an expert; he laughed lowly as Dean gave another involuntary buck of his hips.

Now, don't get him wrong - Dean prided his title as an experienced lover. Wore it like a badge. He pretty much knew the ins-and-outs of everything to do with the bedroom, his knowledge stretching from vanilla to some downright kinky shit, and his lasting time was excellent, even if he did say so himself.

But _God damn,_ Cas was going to make him come like this and he'd be absolutely helpless to stop it.

The strokes of Cas' hand were becoming tighter, more solid and fast and Jesus Christ was that the pad of his_ thumb?!_

"C-Cas," Dean stuttered, eyelids fluttering shut. He was on the brink, he could feel it, pulsing through his veins in waves - he was threatening to spill over any second. It felt like he was going to explode, electrifying pleasure igniting his senses, making his fingertips tingle and his toes curl.

Damned if he was gonna be the one to finish this race first.

"Cas... Cas I need-" Dean panted, reaching up to grip the angel's hips, blunt nails leaving marks that would be visible for days, "You... s-stop - oh _fuck..._"

Blood was roaring in his ears, and only when he was at his very _peak _did Cas cease his hand, ripping every sensation away from him. Dean's eyes fluttered shut, breathing heavy as the angel leant down to graze his jaw, his teeth nipping his skin softly.

"Not... nice... is it?" Cas muttered quietly, hands returning to rest flat on the other's chest. Just the tone of his voice was enough to tell Dean that the angel was thoroughly enjoying torturing him. So as well as the flirting and the biting kink, Cas had found a certain love for sadistic pleasure.

_Oh, he was so gone._

It took a full twenty seconds for Dean to gather his thoughts again, but when he did, he made sure to make a point. A prominent one at that.

"You... You learn quick," Dean exhaled deeply, his hands skittering up the flat span of Cas' back, feeling each individual muscle tense as his fingers passed over the angel's skin. Cas drew out an uneven breath.

"But I'm-" a teasing scrape of nails, "-still-" Cas' forehead dropping to rest against Dean's shoulder, "-better."

The angel groaned into Dean's neck as he grabbed Cas' ass, roughly pulling the other further onto his lap. Cas' head snapped up instantly, his hands framing Dean's face as his legs folded, knees landing either side of the hunter's hips. Their chests were pressing together, the intimacy enhancing every sensation - every second - that passed between them.

It was absolutely _exhilarating_.

"You're... teasing again - ah!" Cas' breath hitched violently, his body giving an involuntary jolt as Dean thrust upwards, watching the angel's face almost hungrily; his full lips, parted slightly as they made those beautiful little sounds that sent Dean's head hurtling full throttle; the black eyelashes, dusting the cheekbones that he'd dragged a thumb over more times than he could count when kissing the angel senseless; the mussed hair, so ridiculously chaotic that it stuck up in every possible way, not to mention the hands on his neck and the side of his face - unique in their own way, with slender joints and calloused fingers. Dean cherished it all - every single part was perfect to him.

Castiel was gorgeous. No, not gorgeous - that word just didn't cut it anymore. Beautiful, good-looking, attractive - the dictionary didn't have the answers. None of it could ever be worthy of describing this angel. _Dean's _angel.

Cas was Cas - that'd have to be good enough.

"Of course I'm teasing," Dean smirked, his hands skimming over Castiel's hips, treading dangerously close to sensitive territory. Cas shook from the knees up, hips canting - he was coming undone at the seams, and Dean was loving every second, "It's what I do best."

The angel inhaled sharply when Dean's hand cupped him tightly, crying out when his thumb slid over the head of Cas cock. The angel bit his lip, a strangled sound escaping from deep inside his chest.

"Dean..." He practically _mewled,_ nails digging into Dean's neck, "Dean please..."

"You want this, Cas?" Dean asked throatily, giving a sharp twist of his wrist that had the angel writhing on top of him in an instant, "...You just have to ask."

Cas' eyes flashed down at him, shining and adoring and Dean was sure he was gonna start growing a uterus if he kept thinking these things about another person. Chick-flick moments were one thing, but this was like he was trapped in a goddamn romance novel.

...And he was kind of enjoying it.

Cas' hands moved, catching Dean's wrists a moment later, sliding his hands over his forearms. Every single nerve seemed to fire off at the angel's touch, every hair stood on end, as if waiting in rapt attention. The warmth of the other was coming off in waves, the shaken sight of him making Dean smirk like an idiot.

"I don't... want this."

The smirk dropped, the hands faltered. Panic flared in Dean's gut, oozing through his stomach like sickly-sweet syrup.

Cas was having second thoughts?

Maybe this had all been a mistake, maybe he'd messed up somehow, maybe-

"I..." Cas glanced at him, eyes aglow above flushed cheeks, "I want _you_, Dean..."

Somehow, Cas' fingers had managed to interlace themselves with Dean's, and the angel was holding them like they were the only lifeline tethering him to this earth.

The weight behind those words was as significant as Dean had thought it would be, a much deeper meaning clear in the undertones of Cas' voice. Dean felt his eyebrows draw together in surprise, one hand leaving the angel's own to stroke up his arm, resting on the other's bicep.

"...You sure?" He asked, voice quiet, tracing shapes on Cas' skin, " 'Cause once you got me, I'm pretty difficult to get rid of."

Staring.

Cas had always had a knack for staring with those unusually piercing eyes. For making the hunter feel like he was being examined inside out, like he was being judged underneath unrelenting scrutiny. But Dean refused to break his gaze - he needed to let Cas know that it was okay, he didn't have to do anything for him, they could wait. Wait as long as he'd like. Days, weeks, years - it didn't matter. Dean would wait.

Castiel blinked, took a breath, steadied himself... and nodded.

Dean smiled up the angel, pulling his head down once more, winding his fingers through that ridiculous black hair. He was so goddamn lucky. He didn't deserve this - didn't deserve a happy ending. Yet he was getting one anyway and he couldn't be anymore grateful if he tried.

Was it possible to be this happy?

With a swift turn of his body, Dean made the angel's back hit the mattress, his elbow coming to lean against the bedsheets as his forearm framed Cas' head, hand still playing in the angel's hair. He leant down to press his lips against the other's nose.

"You feel uncomfortable at anytime," Dean began, his free hand trailing down to hold the other's hip against the mattress, "You tell me, okay?"

Cas looked up at him and nodded again, the rustle of his hair against the pillow seeming much more vivid in Dean's ears than it should be. He could even hear his own heart - feel it in throat like it was trying to escape.

It was just that Cas was really letting him do this; it was the fact that he was opening himself up to someone, showing them his most vulnerable side - a sign of pure, unadulterated trust.

Castiel trusted him. To his fullest.

That in itself made Dean want to laugh and run in fear at the same time.

Through some tricky manoeuvring, the two managed to change position, so that the angel was soon on his hands and knees, Dean kneeling behind him. Cas' head dipped between his shoulders as Dean ran his hands down his back, coming to rest at his hips. The marks Dean's nails had left earlier were still there, vivid red crescents embedded into the backdrop of milky-white skin. It was his mark; Dean had put there, a sign to say that this angel was his. No-one else's.

The handprint on his shoulder tingled in response.

Deliberately, he leant over, leaving scant kisses over the small of Cas' back - the angel was painted in an odd light, leaving dark shadows crossing stark skin. The pads of Dean's fingers traced patterns over that expanse of pale back - angled shoulder blades and faint contours of where muscle met muscle. Every line was intricately tiny, a complex spiderweb of the human body. And it was all laid out for him, ready and perfect.

"God damn," Dean said against Cas' heated skin, "You know how lucky I am, to have you like this?"

He could see the rise and and fall of the angel's chest become more rapid as he trailed lower, dragging his lips down the line of the other's spine, the small bumps of the vertebrae feeling strangely foreign underneath his mouth. The palms of his hands stroked down Cas' thighs, wandering aimlessly over the angel's body as though it were a picturesque landscape - forged in the hands of God and just _waiting _to be discovered.

When Dean's fingers glided over the curve of Cas' ass, the angel physically _trembled _on the bed, hands holding onto the bedsheets tightly.

"_Dean..._" He whispered to the ceiling, pushing himself backwards into the hunter's hands. The break in Cas' voice sent blood rushing south, his already aching cock throbbing between his legs. His hips jutted instinctively, hissing the angel's name through clenched teeth. If he didn't get started soon, he was going to explode - and judging by the way Cas was shaking at his touch, he wasn't far off either.

"Do it."

It was a command rather than a suggestion, and the authoritative tone of Cas' voice caused goosebumps to erupt down Dean's neck. Those rough vocals were just...

"Dean, _now._"

_..._holy _hell _they were hot.

"Patience... is a virtue," Dean commented idly, knowing full well that he needed this as much as Cas did; but he wasn't going to miss a perfect opportunity to wind the angel up. Not now, not ever.

He'd admit something to himself, though...

Guy on guy sex.

Yeah... it was still a little new to him - 'new' being used loosely, of course. Sure, the mechanics may be simple, but...

_Quit whining and get on with it, Winchester. _

Right. Carry on. Yep.

Dean took a breath, taking a moment to reach over to the bedside table, extending his hand to the jar that seemed to have been staring at him like a rabid dog ever since they'd gotten up here. He'd never admit to the slight tremble in his fingers as he picked it up and settled back onto the bed, unscrewing the lid and dipping his fingers in.

Within seconds he'd slicked his fingers up with a generous amount of lube, and was attempting to quell the nervous flutter that wriggled in his gut. Completely useless, but he could try nonetheless.

"Seriously," Dean warned, tone dropping, slippery fingers passing lightly over Cas' entrance, exploring, "You don't like something - you want me to stop at _all_, you say. Okay?"

Cas was out of it - apparently Dean's digits had done the trick. The angel's hips were driving back against his fingers, a great shiver travelling down Cas' spine. Dean let his other hand rest, splayed, at the base of the angel's spine - he could feel the other's steady heartbeat through his bones. "Cas?"

A broken 'please' was his only response, and only then did Dean gather himself to take the plunge.

He pressed gently at first, not wanting to overstimulate the poor guy - he was already a wonderfully writhing mess of wanting below him; who knew what would happen if he went too fast?

He waited a moment, before pushing one well-lubed finger in, slowly. Cas cried out, and instantly, Dean began to pull away, praying to whatever God was listening that he hadn't done anything wrong-

_"_Dean-"

"I'm sorry Cas, I didnt-"

_"Don't stop."_

A bizarre urge to laugh bubbled up in his chest, a faint veil of relief settling over him. Not pain, but pleasure. The thought made Dean's eyebrows rocket.

Cas tightened around him, muscles gradually relaxing as the seconds passed. He stifled a moan as Dean stroked the solid wall of muscle, clamping down hard on his lip, and the hunter couldn't help the sense of disappointment he felt; he wanted to _hear _Cas, hear him call his name and plead - _beg _- for more.

The hand on the base of the angel's spine travelled upwards, passing over those deliciously smooth shoulder blades before tangling in the mess of black hair on the back of the other's skull, tugging - no, _encouraging _- his head upwards, distracting Cas from gnawing on his lip.

"Dean please-"

"Don't go silent on my account, Cas," he said, noting how utterly _wrecked _Cas' voice was - he was so fucking _responsive _- he was getting all hot and bothered, even though Dean had barely touched him. Considering he was pretty much a virgin, it only made sense, "I want to hear _everything_."

To add emphasis, his flicked his finger inside Castiel, and the angel's arms nearly gave out, shouting Dean's name to the ceiling, head still held resolutely in place by his unrelenting grip on his hair.

"That's better," Dean rumbled, withdrawing his finger only to gradually add a second, scissoring the angel open. Cas' vocabulary went from half-sentences to single syllable words, panting them out between ragged breaths.

"I want... Dean I - _ah!_" He yelped when Dean's fingers brushed against that tiny bundle of nerves inside, rocking his hips on principle, fucking himself nice and slow on Dean's fingers. He knew that that should be anything but hot - he knew he shouldn't find another man underneath him arousing in the _first _place - but Jesus it was a turn-on. Cas was thirsty for it, like a man lost in the desert was thirsty for water.

"Want what, Cas?" He asked, giving another flick, this time with both fingers - the angel's muscles shook, his back shaking like a leaf as he moaned, long and loud for Dean to hear. He let go of Cas' hair, hand returning to rest on his hip as he began to add another finger, "Tell me what you want."

Cas didn't answer.

Well, that wouldn't do.

Dean knelt up on his knees, his free hand reaching around Cas' hip to glide down his navel, stroking over his abs and trailing down. _All _the way down.

"D-Dean...!" Cas stuttered, breath catching when he realised what the hunter was doing, "You..._ah...!_"

Cas jolted when Dean took his cock in hand, giving light, featherlike strokes that had the angel begging for more - every sound he made drove Dean closer, and he knew that he couldn't be far off. Cas was nearly there too, and every involuntary jerk of his hips drove Dean's fingers - three now - deeper. The angel actually friggin' _whined _when Dean withdrew both hands.

"You ready, Cas?" He asked, hands skimming up to rest on the angel's shoulders. In his own way of answering, Cas knelt up, turning just so that he could kiss Dean clumsily, hand wound tightly into the short hair on the back of his head.

"Yes," he spoke between the kiss, "Dean - please."

Gently, Dean pulled away, coaxing the other back down onto the bedspread, unable to stop himself from touching every inch of the angel he could reach. He wanted to feel him, to taste him - to learn his body wholly and be able to recite it from memory

"So polite; gonna have to break _that _habit..." Dean murmured quietly, reaching for the jar again. Feeling more at ease, he warmed the gel-like liquid between his fingers, wanting this to be as comfortable as possible for the both of them.

"You gonna come for me, Cas?" He asked as he lined himself up, fingers tracing ineligible patterns across the span of the angel's back, leaving thin tracks of lube across his skin. They shined in the dim lighting, "Gonna ask for it? Gonna _beg _me for it?"

Cas nodded, hips moving backwards, as if silently telling Dean to _hurry the hell up. _

He was only happy to oblige.

In one slow, solid movement, he pushed in, and for the love of God he couldn't stop the groan that clawed it's way out of his throat. The angel was tight and hot around him and _fucking hell -_ it took every shred of self-control he had not to go too fast, but it was worth it, if only to hear Cas losing it underneath him.

"_Fuck...!_"

It was the first time Dean had ever heard the angel swear, and he felt oddly proud to have managed to entice the blasphemy with only his body. He decided he wanted to hear it again - hear that voice, rough and _fucked out_. Just the way he liked.

Smoothly, he leant forwards, pressing himself against the other, chest coming to rest against Cas' back as his arms fell onto the mattress either side of him. It was just like the kitchen all over again - except, of course, they were both completely naked this time. Dean could appreciate _that _for all it was worth.

He was fully sheathed inside the angel now, coasting to a shuddering stop as they both adjusted to the new angle. Cas' voice was strung out, a constant whimpered mantra of 'Dean' and 'please' spilling from his lips.

"Want you so bad," his words were becoming nonsensical as time went by - hell, he couldn't control his body, "Wanna hear you come for me, Cas. You gonna scream for me?"

Cas' shoulders rolled, head falling forwards.

"I will - Dean I... promise... Just - _ah...!" _He never managed to finish his sentence, Dean's hips distracting him entirely as they moved. The friction felt so fucking _good,_ and the damn angel was making these pretty little sounds that were just too... just too _everything_.

Dean couldn't go slow any longer if he tried - the feeling of Cas around him, perfect and so very _tight, _was just too much. He rolled his hips, stifling a strangled breath, pads of his fingers digging into the mattress.

In seconds, he'd put up a punishing rhythm, his thrusts in time with Cas' every unhinged breath. Their sweaty skin slapped together, their bodies moving in a strange kind of unison. The bed rocked; the headboard bumped against the wall, thudding through the floor. Almost every jerk of Dean's hips hit home, and within a minute Cas' voice was hoarse from crying out, nails nearly ripping clean through the mattress sheet.

Dean could feel jolts of some otherworldly feeling shoot through him, unlike anything he'd ever felt - no woman had ever managed to tear him to pieces like this, no matter how curvy or attractive.

Whatever jot of heterosexuality he'd had vanished in that moment - a guy was turning him on, and the sex with said guy was better than anything he'd ever had before.

Yep. One-hundred percent gay.

He nearly lost it when Cas clenched around him, having to halt for a few seconds - if he hadn't, he would've come then and there. Vaguely, he registered that he was speaking, but the words just weren't reaching his own ears - he was too caught up with the rest of his senses. The sound of Cas' gasped words, the feel of his warmth around him and the scent of him against his skin... He could see Cas' hair falling about his face, damp and dark with sweat; his knuckles, going white from how hard they were tangled amongst the sheets.

Dean let his head drop, kissing across the angel's shoulders, hips jutting forward harder and faster. Each jerk practically made the angel bounce - Cas tensed-up, arms shaking as they held him upright. Dean couldn't see from here, but he just _knew _that he was biting down on his lip, refusing to release any form of sound; refusing to let Dean win. He laughed, his hips coasting to a reluctant stop.

"You hate it, don't you?" He asked quietly against the angel's skin, purposefully jerking his hips once more. Cas gave in and groaned, pushing his weight back into Dean's, grinding on his cock. Dean let a growl tear from his throat.

"You... _hate... _being helpless like this..." He gasped out eventually.

Cas managed a breathy chuckle, "But you seem to like it."

Dean's lips lifted into a smirk, "Damn straight I do," he agreed, "Just so I can do stuff like _this_."

Once - twice - three times he jutted his hips, and the other's arms gave out completely, face pressing into the pillows, his legs entangled with Dean's. The hunter ran his hands up Cas' sides, pulling the other's surprisingly light form to rest on his hips as he sat back on his haunches.

The angel was seated fully upright in his lap, murmuring the prayer of Dean's name over and over again. Cas' back was pressed firmly against the hunter's stomach, and Dean took the opportunity to pass his hands over the other's hips and slide down the front of his thighs. Times like these were when Cas' height was ideal; they slotted together absolutely perfectly.

Dean bucked upwards, fingers tightening around Cas' thighs as the angel reached behind him, just managing to run his hands down the hunter's lower back, nails scraping down his skin, so light that it felt like running water. Cas' ministrations ceased immediately when Dean moved again, sinking all the way in to Cas' heat, the new position allowing for far better access.

_"_Dean I - _fuck...!" _

Dean could feel his muscles beginning to strain as he kept up the pace, but the sound of Cas' voice was like a shot of adrenaline; it spread through his veins like wild fire, powering his every move - every action, every _word_.

The angel had lost it, digging in to Dean's back with all the ferocity of a wild animal. It hurt, sure - but it only persuaded Dean to go faster; his arms clung around Cas' middle, hands splayed against his chest and pulling him impossibly closer, forehead pressed into the small of the other's back. Shockingly hot coils of pleasure were tightening in his gut, like a string about to snap clean in two, and white was beginning to edge at his vision. Cas' legs gave a warning quiver.

"Dean-" he panted, struggling to speak, his head thrown back and chest heaving, "Dean - I'm -"

The angel broke off, crying out as Dean slammed his hips upwards.

"Come on," He growled in response, arms moving from Cas' middle to grip his hips and pull them sharply down. The other cried out again, "For me, Cas - just let go."

That was all the incentive Cas needed. And the angel certainly kept his promise - his voice, rough and wonderfully wrecked - screamed the hunter's name so loudly that Dean was sure it would be heard miles away.

Then there were the shadows. Great, wide shadows, stretching out from Cas' back and reaching from wall to wall. They shook, and Dean heard the unmistakeable whisper of glossy feathers sliding over one another, filling the room and arching high over them both.

It was _magnificent_.

The sound of Cas - the sight of him and the feel of him as his muscles clenched around him finally sent Dean tipping blissfully into that hungry abyss that had been waiting for him since what felt like forever. The string snapped - white-hot bolts of an absolutely electrifying sensation exploded across his every nerve, harshly spiking through the pit of his stomach. His eyes snapped shut, his body tensing as he held Cas close. Rigid, he rode out his climax, calling out the angel's name in broken chords as he gave one final severe snap of his hips.

When he came down, he was still holding the angel tightly against him, head resting against the curve of the other's back. He was spent, tiredness pulling at his every fibre. Cas was still atop him, breathing heavy, head barely managing to stay upright on his shoulders.

"I..." Cas began, words grinding to a halt as Dean hands moved, finding the angel's and covering them with his own. His fingers roved over Cas' knuckles, the spaces between the angel's digits perfect for Dean's own.

_Like a puzzle_.

"Cas?" He prompted, hearing his own voice like he was a thousand miles away, his mind hazed.

Cas paused, turning his head slightly; Dean could see the angel's eyelashes brush up and down as he blinked, black flickers against the stark cream background of the bedroom walls in front of him.

"I think..." Cas paused, hands shifting underneath the hunter's own. Dean's brow furrowed, curiosity lighting up his features. His thumbs absently rubbed circles into Cas' skin - a movement that seemed to come second nature.

"Mmm?" He hummed, eyes still closed as he basked in the pleasant afterglow settling in his gut. He heard Cas take a breath.

"...I think... I love you, Dean."

The words hit him like a freight train. His thumbs stopped, eyes snapping open.

...Love.

_Love_.

As in whole, untarnished love?

Those words should scare him, he knew. Those words should send him packing his bags and running to the hills in a second flat. Those words should be _anything _but comforting.

Yet he found himself repeating them back. And he meant every word. Every single one.

He let his knees drift apart, allowing the angel to slide off of him and hit the mattress. Cas let out a groan as Dean slid out of him, taking a moment to lean back against the hunter, just to calm his breath and relax himself. Dean wrapped his arms around the other, his chin coming to rest against Cas shoulder as a calm silence filled the room.

"I mean it." Castiel stated after a minute or so, his voice much firmer than it had been earlier, "I really... really love you, Dean."

The words made Dean smile. He left a kiss on Cas' neck, nose brushing through the angel's hair.

"Well that's good," he said quietly, " 'Cause you're stuck with me now. If I drive you insane, it's your problem."

Cas chuckled lightly, head falling against Dean's shoulder. The angel's hair tickled Dean's skin, causing goosebumps to spread across his chest. Cas turned to look up at him, blue eyes glinting slightly underneath that ridiculous mop of hair. Dean could see his own reflection in those glassy orbs, and whether it was the lighting or his own imagination, he could've sworn Cas' eyes were wet. But in a second the moment was broken, and the two were more than content just to sit there and bask in one another's presence.

"...We'd better tidy up at some point." Dean warned a while later as they lay underneath the covers - while they themselves were relatively clean, the same couldn't exactly be said of the sheets.

Cas looked up at him through his lashes; he refused to fall asleep before Dean, in an odd act of what he supposed was loyalty.

The angel closed his eyes. There was a faint rustling noise, before Cas opened them again.

"Clean." He said simply, giving that funny little half-smirk that Dean had come to treasure. He grinned back, leaning forward to leave a kiss on the other's forehead.

"What was with washing the dishes downstairs earlier then?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised. The angel shrugged.

"It seemed more fitting that way," Cas answered, "Besides, I become... bored when you're out. I occupy myself by doing things by hand."

Dean laughed, "An angel maid," he said, adoring the affronted look that crossed Castiel's face, "I have an angel maid."

Cas shoved his shoulder, though a smile was evident on his features. That toothy grin that was a rare sight, even when around the angel twenty-four seven. It was almost honouring, in a way - a prize, for Dean and Dean only.

The hunter rolled over on his back, extending an arm out, offering silently. Cas looked up at him, scooting over and laying his head on Dean's chest as he pulled the covers up over his shoulder. Dean's hand played in the other's hair, settling more comfortably on the plush pillows.

They lay there for a long time like that. The light outside grew dim, the sun ending what had turned out to be a pretty damn good day, in Dean's book.

_Got laid _and _got an 'I love you' out of it. Not bad, if I do say so myself. _

He'd taken to carding through Cas' hair as the minutes went by, and soon he felt the hold of sleep slowly reeling his mind in. His eyes drifted shut.

"Love you, Cas." He murmured, holding the angel close, burying his face in his unruly hair.

The angel never heard him, of course. He was already fast asleep - had been for the past ten minutes, nothing but his soft snores filling the otherwise quiet room. But Dean didn't mind. His angel was at peace.

And so was he.


End file.
